The Man She Married (10 page)

“Can you believe Maizie was able to talk a brass quartet into playing for you?” Harvey buttered a piece of cornbread and stuffed it into his mouth. It was fried chicken night at the DeLite Diner.

Clay had been chuckling ever since the last tuba note. “I’m going to marry that girl. That is, if we can ever get back on the right path.”

Harvey gave him a strange look. “Please don’t tell me you guys aren’t married. That would shatter all my illusions of matrimony.” Harvey had been married twice and was intent on making sure the third time stuck.

“What I meant is that I plan to court her. And after I win her over I’ll broach the subject of renewing our vows. We were so young when we started dating that all I could afford was an occasional Coke, and that wasn’t too often. This time around I’m going to pull out all the stops.”

“That sounds like a plan to me.” Harvey quickly forgot his manners when the waitress delivered their food. “Do you know anything about romance?” he asked around a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

That was a good question. Clay wondered whether there was a
Romance for Dummies
book.

“Not much,” he admitted. “I suppose the first thing I should do is make a reservation at a classy restaurant.”

“With tablecloths,” Harvey added.

“Tablecloths are definitely a plus, and it should have some expensive wines. We’ll make small talk and then I’ll hold her hand and look into her eyes. We’ll eat, but I won’t talk with my mouth full. I’ll surrender my credit card and that should do the trick. Is that about it?”

“Sounds good to me, but what do I know? I popped the question to wife number two at the bowling alley.”

“And how long did that one last?” Clay tempered his comment with a grin.

“I see what you mean,” Harv admitted sheepishly.

I
T HAD BEEN A
HIDEOUSLY
long day. Both Liza and Mama were harassing Maizie to call Clay. But that wasn’t going to happen. It was his turn to take action. She’d already provided a stink bomb, an ersatz Brenda Lee and a brass band. What more did he want?

Dinner was a reheated pot pie and a wilted salad. Clay was probably enjoying fried chicken and peach cobbler—courtesy of either her mother or the DeLite Diner. It wasn’t fair, but Maizie couldn’t blame anyone but herself.

Pity parties were such a drag. So with a glass of wine in hand, she was getting ready to slip into a bubble bath when the phone rang. Hoping it was Clay and praying it wasn’t Mama, Maizie grabbed the cordless and chirped a greeting.

“Mo-o-om,” Her daughter was the only person Maizie knew who could turn that one-syllable word
into about three. “What’s going on at home? I went online to read the
Gazette,
just to check out what was happening and there it was in black and white. The War of the Walkers. What do you guys think you’re doing?”

Hannah was in a snit. Hadn’t Maizie’s day sucked enough already?

“Honey, everything’s fine. Your dad and I are having a little disagreement and the paper got involved. You know how it is around here. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”

“Are you getting divorced?”

“No way.” Please God let her be telling the truth. “It’s not that big a deal. I promise.”

“Are you sure?”

“Honestly.”

“I want to talk to Daddy.”

What could Maizie say? “Well, uh, your dad is staying at Grammy’s house.”

There was a long pause before Hannah wailed. “He’s not living with you?”

“No,” Maizie admitted.

“That does it! I’m coming home.”

“Please don’t. You have to go to class. We’re fine, honestly we are.” Hannah was a bigger drama queen than Maizie and they truly didn’t need any more hysteria. “Call your daddy. He’ll tell you the same thing.”

“Okay, but if I get any bad vibes I’m coming home.”

Maizie couldn’t argue with that. And she wasn’t worried. Even when Hannah was a baby Clay could calm her.

“I love you, sweetie. Don’t worry about us.” Maizie was doing enough of that on her own. “We’re fine.”

“I love you, too, Mama.” Hannah didn’t call her mama unless she was really upset.

“Get a good night’s sleep.”

“Okay. But I’m serious—if I hear anything else I’ll be home like a shot.”

“That’s fair enough.” If Cora Tillington dared mentioned the name Walker in that rag again, Maizie would sue her sweet buns.

After a few more minutes of reassuring her daughter, Maizie placed the cordless on the bathroom vanity in anticipation of hopping in the tub. That fantasy evaporated when she heard a loud crash downstairs. It didn’t sound like breaking glass. Maybe one of the neighbors’ cats had knocked something off the porch. She shook her head, determined not to worry.

Maizie had one toe in the suds before she decided to check, just in case. She grabbed her bathrobe and the phone before tiptoeing downstairs. Sneaky was her middle name.

Using every ounce of stealth she could muster, Maizie went out the back door and quietly made her way toward the front yard. Damn, it was dark!

Taking one step at a time she crept along the side of the house. Wow, she was good at this covert ops stuff. That thought pinged through her brain right before she stubbed her toe, sending pain shooting straight to the top of her head. Don’t cuss, don’t scream and for God’s sake, don’t even whimper.

Maizie was almost to the edge of the house when she heard muttering. Nope, that wasn’t a cat. Think—what were her options? Take the creep out with a brilliant kung-fu maneuver? Call 911? That was the winner.

As Maizie punched in the numbers she carefully peeked around the corner. She must have made a noise because the man peering in her front window turned, looked around wildly and then ran full-tilt toward the end of the porch.

Maizie should have been relieved he was hauling ass—too bad he was on a collision course with the spot where she was hunkered down. She had no more than a second to brace herself before the intruder leaped over the porch rail, crashed through an azalea and landed smack-dab on top of her.

The breath whooshed out of her lungs and she immediately saw a whole galaxy of stars. Scream! Oh, yeah. She’d do that as soon as she could breathe.

Even in her state of sheer terror Maizie noticed a few things about her attacker: he wasn’t waving a knife, he was dressed all in black including a ski mask, and he appeared to be almost as discombobulated as she was. How about that, an incompetent burglar.

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” The tinny voice coming from the phone Maizie still clutched kept repeating the question.

When the intruder heard that, he jumped up and ran off. Not fond of cops, huh?

“Uh.” Maizie finally managed to at least groan.

“Ma’am, are you all right?” Too bad she still couldn’t quite speak. “Ma’am? I’m sending a unit to your home. Stay on the line until they get there.”

“Uh-huh.” That was the extent of Maizie’s conversational skills.

Five minutes later two police cars arrived, lights blazing and sirens wailing. That was when Maizie real
ized she was wearing nothing but a threadbare chenille bathrobe. Holy catfish! Talk about adding insult to injury.

“Maizie, what happened? Are you all right?” She should’ve guessed her brother-in-law would be one of the respondents. “I heard your address on the scanner and I came right over.”

“I’m okay, I think, although I do need to get dressed.”

Maizie cinched the belt of the robe. “I thought I had an intruder so I came out to see what was going on. I was at the end of the porch when he jumped off and landed on me.” She paused for a second, afraid she might pass out. “He scared me silly and knocked the breath out of me, but I’m okay.”

“These nice folks are here to check you out.” Zack turned to the two young paramedics. “This is my sister-in-law, take good care of her.”

“Yes, sir.” The EMT was a dead ringer for Brad Pitt. Wasn’t that just her darned luck.

“You probably won’t like this but I’m calling Liza,” Zack said as he punched in some numbers on his cell. “She’ll have my hide if I don’t.”

Then Liza would call Kenni and so on. From there it would only be a matter of minutes before the entire family would come rushing to the rescue—and the only thing saving her from being bare-ass naked was her ratty bathrobe.

It was the perfect end to a perfect day.

Liza was the first family member to arrive, followed by Mama and Daddy, then Kenni and Win, and later ex-sheriff Dave and Aunt Eugenie showed up. So where was Clay? Maizie’s question was answered when his truck rounded the corner on two wheels and screeched to a stop.

“Damn it!” Clay barreled through the front door and grabbed her by the shoulders. He didn’t bother with any niceties. “Why didn’t you call me?”

That did it! Maizie planted her hands on her hips, ready to tear a strip off his hide. “Do you really care?” Sarcasm dripped from her every word.

Clay glared but he didn’t say anything else. She couldn’t tell whether he was about to let her have it or go for the glacial treatment. Normally they preferred a rip-roaring row and then have spectacular make-up sex. But this was beyond anything they’d had to face before.

Clay let go of her shoulders and went over to talk to Zack who nodded and turned to the crowd.

“Everyone, listen up. The excitement’s over. Let’s
all head to our cars and leave Maizie and Clay to sort this one out.”

Zack’s announcement earned him a dirty look from his wife, but that didn’t stop him. “Come on, chop, chop. Let’s move this circus on down the road.”

Maizie giggled. That man didn’t have a chance in hell of sleeping in Liza’s bed tonight. If he was lucky the dogs would let him bunk in with them.

Liza glared at her husband one more time. She wasn’t used to being separated from her sister—especially in a time of trouble. She put her arms around Maizie. “I’ll call you in the morning. If you need anything tonight, give me a buzz. I don’t care how late.”

After the police had finished their somewhat limited investigation and the crowd had dispersed Clay made himself at home, retrieving a beer from the refrigerator and a bag of chips from the pantry.

Maizie picked up his brew and took a sip. “Aren’t you leaving?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

“Nope, I’m tired of your mother’s accommodations. I’m moving into Hannah’s room. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, I suppose not.” Hallelujah! She wasn’t going to have to stay awake all night worrying about being murdered in her bed.

That was the only piece of good news. She wasn’t worried, but Clay’s proposed arrangements were a guaranteed recipe for insomnia. Hours later—after she’d punched her pillow, rolled over at least four hundred times and checked the clock so often the glowing numbers were burned into her eyes—Maizie conceded there was something far worse than fending off a homi
cidal maniac. That was sleeping down the hall from a husband she desperately wanted to ravage, or at the very least have her way with.

Men were such pigs. He was probably sound asleep while she was agonizing over her desire to pay him a naughty visit. She was dying to get back to her normal, boring life. But considering everything that had gone down, could they really make things right?

It was shortly before dawn before Maizie finally drifted off to sleep. Her last coherent thought was that she was going to feel like a pile of dog doo when the alarm buzzed.

Boy, did she call that one right. A tequila bender would have been better. At least she would have had the fun of getting drunk. Someone was pounding a bongo in her head, her stomach was queasy and her hair looked like Medusa with a perm. It wasn’t a great start to the morning.

Maizie stumbled down the stairs in search of a cup of coffee. But instead of coffee she discovered a full breakfast—bacon, eggs, grits and toast. It was Nirvana wrapped in cholesterol.

“Hey, Sunshine, I was about to come up and wake you. Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Uh-huh.” Maizie was too focused on procuring a caffeine fix to be more eloquent than that.

“Sorry,” she said after savoring her first sip. “You cooked me breakfast. That was so sweet.” Actually, it made her want to cry.

Clay piled her plate high with food. “Sit down and eat.”

That was an order she gladly obeyed. Food was exactly what she needed.

“This is delicious.” The scrambled eggs were perfect, the bacon was crisp, the grits were buttery and the coffee was strong—it was a chubby girl’s version of heaven.

“Maizie, we need to talk.” Clay toyed with his mug.

A man who wanted to talk? Gabriel must be tooting his horn. Either that or the four horsemen were about to ride through the kitchen.

“I’m going to move back in. Don’t freak. I’ll bunk in Hannah’s room.” He didn’t give her time to argue, not that she wanted to. “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be here by yourself.”

“Why?”

Clay shrugged. “Zack told me about the fire hydrant incident.” He frowned. “By the way, why didn’t
you
tell me about that?”

“I didn’t think you’d be interested.” The truth was she afraid he wouldn’t care.

“I wouldn’t be interested!” he shouted. “Are you out of your freakin’ mind?”

That was a valid question. She had been acting a little nutty lately, but Maizie knew a good thing when she saw it, and having her husband at home was fantastic—even if he wasn’t ready to come back to their bed. The best part was that Clay thought it was all his idea.

Clay felt as fuzzy-brained as his wife. How could he sleep down the hall from Maizie night after night, and still be able to function?

If today was any indication, it wasn’t going to be easy. He’d arrived late to the office and had just pulled up a file on the computer when a familiar voice called a halt to anything work related.

“Hi, Daddy.”

He looked up from his monitor to find his daughter standing in his office doorway.

“Hey, Sweetie!” Although it was a pleasant surprise, Hannah was the very last person Clay expected, or wanted, to see. Especially the way things were going at home. He went around the desk to give his daughter a hug.

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have classes?” Clay didn’t give her a chance to answer before he continued. “Grab us a couple of Cokes while I close out this program.”

Hannah rummaged through the minifridge and came up with two soft drinks.

“Here you go.” She placed both cans on the coffee table and then took a seat on the couch.

Clay glanced at his little girl who wasn’t so little anymore. Even so, she was giving him the same “take no prisoners look” she’d perfected as a preschooler. And she still hadn’t answered his question.

“Why are you here?” He joined her on the couch, not quite certain what to expect.

“I want to know what’s going on with you and Mom.” Hannah had never been one to mince words—a trait she shared with Maizie and Liza.

How could you explain the goat rope this escapade had become other than by admitting that two incredibly stubborn people were butting heads? “Don’t worry about us. We’re having a simple disagreement that has unfortunately gotten some attention in the local press.” He shrugged as if to say, “What can you do?” “You know what it’s like in Magnolia Bluffs.”

“A disagreement? You call being a regular feature in the paper a
disagreement?
”

Clay had been a parent long enough to recognize the start of a crying binge.

“Hannah, honey. Honestly, it started off as a spat and somehow it escalated. I’m back at home now. There’s nothing to worry about.” He didn’t tell her he was camped out in her bedroom, nor did he mention his “courting Maizie” project.

“Are you going by the boutique to see your mom?”

Hannah shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I talked to her last night.”

She looked so much like the little girl he remembered that it was as though time had stood still.

“Promise me you have it covered.” Her request was just short of a whine.

“Don’t worry I’m on it.” Clay could only hope he wasn’t kidding himself.

M
AIZIE COULDN’T CONCENTRATE
on retail to save her life and PJ wasn’t helping matters.

“I heard what happened last night. That is so scary!” PJ exclaimed wringing her hands. “Are you really okay?”

“Other than not getting any sleep and feeling like crap with a capital C, I’m fine. Honestly,” Maizie assured her friend.

“Okay, if you’re absolutely positive.” PJ didn’t bother to hide her lascivious grin. “I understand Clay spent the night.”

“Lord in heaven, nothing’s secret in this town!” Maizie exclaimed. “Tell me exactly what you heard, and don’t leave anything out.”

PJ smirked again. “Just that you were chasing a prowler and he attacked you. And you and Clay spent the night having wild monkey sex.” She laughed at her own wit. “Fine, so I made up that last part.”

“Typical. Only half of that’s true. Why don’t people get their stories straight?”

“So what is true? And to quote my boss, don’t leave anything out.”

Maizie plunked her butt on the fainting couch, knowing full well PJ wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Yes, I had a prowler. But no, he didn’t attack me. He must’ve panicked when he heard me coming around from the backyard and that’s when he leaped off the
porch. Unfortunately he landed right on top of me. And believe me—in that situation, being on the bottom wasn’t any fun.”

Thank goodness her sense of humor had finally kicked in. “As for the monkey sex, I only wish. Clay spent the night in Hannah’s room.” Maizie made a tsking sound. “I’m not sure what any of it means.”

“Darn. That wasn’t nearly as juicy as I’d hoped.”

“However.”
Maizie drew out the word for dramatic effect. “The reason I’m so tired is that I was up all night fantasizing about all sorts of prurient activities.”

PJ fanned herself. “Whew.”

Lunch came and went and Maizie still hadn’t perked up. She was tired, she was cranky and she needed some exercise.

“PJ, can you do without me for a couple of hours this afternoon? I’d like to go take a tennis lesson. Maybe some fresh air and a workout will get me out of this funk.”

“I didn’t know you were still playing.”

“I haven’t in a while. I was trying to behave and keep my mind on business.”

“You get out of here. We won’t even miss you,” PJ said with a grin.

“Thanks a million.”

“M
AIZIE
! I
T’S GREAT TO
see you.”

“Hi, Trip. I hope you don’t mind me dropping in for a group lesson.”

“Are you funnin’ me? I’m delighted to have you back. In fact, I have some ladies who are looking for a fourth. Are you interested?”

“How desperate are they?”

Trip laughed but didn’t contradict her. So that’s how it was. Desperate was good.

“As long as they’re not expecting Wimbledon quality I’m your gal.” Wimbledon, ha! She wouldn’t be allowed within a hundred miles of the stadium.

“They’re nice. You know Paige Butler.”

“Sure, I do.”

“You’ll have a good time with them. I promise.”

Maizie certainly hoped he was right. Good times had been few and far between lately.